


Stained.

by balmainiaz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, disgustingly cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4529169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balmainiaz/pseuds/balmainiaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something's are just too important for Harry to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained.

**Author's Note:**

> Stained shirts, paint cans, and sweet kisses.

"I miss you." He says a bit disappointed looking down at his white tshirt. "And maybe you mis- no." With a heavy sigh.

Harry was staying with the Azoff's for a few days before flying off again to "God knows where", "somewhere up north". He's lost track of scheduling, tours a mess anyway there's no point in paying attention. He just goes where the planes take him. He's sure Glenne is happy he's finally going back on tour, she's stuck between being annoyed and a bit worried. He's gotten close to them, it started off cute. They'd go out to lunch and maybe catch a sporting game no one knew Harry was interested in. Now he's practically moved into their home. Designer boots flopped around the front door and a lamp next to the tv is covered with head scarves he'd left since last year. Their cabinets are filled with organic products not even Harry can properly pronounce.

"You've worn that shirt already this week." Jeff says as Harry emerges from his room.

"Eh- yeah. I must have forgotten to put it in the wash." Adjusting his belt buckle. "It's not a big deal."

Glenne scans Harry for a few seconds, tilting her head to the side, straight and to the other side. "Didn't you tell me something about that shirt?" Walking a bit closer to him and tugging at the hem giving a smile.

"What? No." Taking a few steps backwards almost tripping over himself.

"You know how he is Glenne, the smallest things have a meaning. Let him be."

Harry wasn't sure if he should feel ashamed that they've caught on to the fact he holds sentimental value to a lot of things or that he's just lied to his friend and that she knows he did. He looks around the room trying to avoid eye contact with Glenne. He had told her what it meant to him, one night when she found him crying. He knows she didn't forget, he knows she's trying to trick him into talking about it. But he wasn't in the mood to reminisce. He nearly falls over again trying to get his car keys when Glenne stuck out her leg. She always was one to keep at it till she got a proper answer and he was a bit scared of what she would do if he didn't get out quick. 

"You need to talk to him Harry." She said handing Harry a few 20's to buy whatever he needed. "I see how are you are now." Lowering her voice. "You aren't ok, talk to him."

Harry gave Glenne a one armed hug and placed a kiss on her forehead and exchanged goodbyes with Jeff. His heart sunk as he closed the door. If he didn't talk to him by the time he came back Glenne would call him herself. Harry didn't want that, it had to happen his way when he was ready. Perhaps he was ready, maybe he lied to himself to avoid disappointment. What if he had moved on? What if he got closer to her while they were apart? He was the one that distanced himself, it was partially his fault. He wouldn't answer his texts, never picked up when he called. It's his fault the want to connect faded. If only he had answered.

-

He'd taken a short nap on the day of their 100th show. When he woke up there was a mask laying beside him. There was a strong odor in the air, spray paint, the kind professionals use. Harry had bought them just that morning and they were already being put to good use. He ran his fingers through his - much shorter - hair and twisted it at the end. Liam was in the corner jumping rope, Louis was on the phone with Eleanor and Niall....most likely doing something stupid. Harry stretched his long limbs past the arms of the couch. Funny, they didn't go that far last year. He laughed a little when he realized just how much he's grown. When he goes to reach for the mask he notices a piece of paper under it with sloppy but readable handwriting.

"Friday."

-

Harry found himself picking at the paint stains on his shirt. They never came out no matter how hard he tried, he almost tore a hole in it the night-

"Harry!" Some fans called making him break his focus.

"Here you go." The cashier said handing him his drink and a bag filled with some treats. Organic of course.

Harry's shuffling back and forth from his back pocket to his front. He's almost forgotten where he was. He recommended this cafe to him, in those desperate texts. Harry thinks he talked about his newly found interests in hopes he might reply. He didn't of course but he appreciated his efforts. It was a new store, with pale purple walls, he doesn't know how he knew about it. Then again he always was ahead of the game. Harry hands the cashier $40, $10 more lifting his hand to say "keep the change." 

"Harry! Harry! Will you take some pictures?" The fans persisted.

"Yeah, we can outside." Harry doesn't have a problem with pictures. Sure it looks that way but he just wants a conversation first. That's what its come to, phones being shoved in his face. "Just talk to me, please just talk to me." He screams in his head. The fans stopped talking along time ago. His stomach churns, how can he demand to be talked to when wont do the same. Backtrack. He just thought that's what all the fans wanted. That's surely what he wants. That's what, "stop thinking about him." He tells himself biting down hard on his bottom lip. He'd hoped someone would ask him how he's been. If he still talks to-.

"Harry! Me next!" A fan yelled tugging at his arm.

"Yeah," taking a quick picture. "I've got to go guys, nice meeting you all."

It's not like he was tired of the fans, maybe he was this one time, but he really did have to go. He fumbled with his keys till he found his white Mercedes. He sat inside for a few minutes drowning himself in his thoughts. The ice in his drink began to melt, his hair slowly became a bit frizzy from the humidity. It wasn't until he saw a police officer from the corner of his eyes driving in his direction that he started his car. He couldn't get another ticket for the 2nd time within two weeks. Lucky the officer drove by and he began to relax. He drank half of his drink before it got warm and turned on the radio.

"Next up: Jessie's Girl by Rick Springfield!"

-

Harry got up from the couch and quickly walked over to the makeshift room Preston set up. He ran his fingers through his hair again while fixing the mask over his face. His breathing becomes heavy when he sees Zayn sketching on the walls. He stares for awhile admiring his creativity, his beauty, and his newly added tattoos he must have gotten while he was napping. Things kinda changed between them, things changed for Harry for sure. Zayn was always a flirt no matter who it was. No one could tell if he was serious or not. Harry hopes he's serious but doubts it the second Zayn turns and looks at someone else. He has a way about him, he'll lower his eyelids, lick his lips and turn away as if he's unbothered. However when Zayn looks at Harry it's a bit longer, his tongue moves slower and he'll turn his head giving a smile then turn back at him after and laughs. Laughs. Of course he would laugh he knows what he's doing.

"Ya gonna help me or what?" Zayn said without even looking back.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"You mumble," he said laughing. "You do it to a rhythm, sounds like you're writing in your sleep."

"Do I do that?" Harry asks biting on his nails.

"Yeah babe."

"Babe?"

"Yeah, babe. So are you gonna help me?"

Harry stepped into the room and tilted a few cans till he found a color he liked. Something between purple and pink, not really magenta something darker. Zayn had green spraying what looks like his own version of The Hulk. Harry's never spray painted with Zayn before, they've drawn together and Harry's used some of his photography skills on Zayn. Granted he didn't know he was taking them. Spray painting was different though, he had to think but Zayn just did it. Not really a surprise because things always seem to come easy to Zayn, but how he paints was truly other worldly. He'd move his so delicately but without thought, something Harry was never fully able to grasp.

-

"Call him just, call him." Harry tells himself. "It's just....its just. Fuck, it isn't JUST Zayn!"

Harry's already made it back to the Azoff's. He won't dare step outside. Is he more scared of Zayn or Glenne? Glenne definitely, Zayn's never made him feel uncomfortable. He grips at his stirring wheel and pushes his body down on his seat as he sees Glenne watching him from an upstairs bedroom. A vibration comes from under him and he lets out a long sigh. He slowly reaches for his phone.

-

"You aren't much help, ya know?" Zayn says nudging Harry with his knee. Well Harry really couldn't help, he felt like Zayn was doing so well on his own. All he could do was add a little shadow to the pink motorbike Zayn started on before he had woken up. This was a new experience after all Harry would have to get used to handling a spray can and the different strokes involved. Really he just made a few curves and sat back and watched Zayn in his element. It was quite a show to be honest, everything he did, he did it beautifully.

"What are we?" Harry mumbled into his flannel sleeve.

"What's that?"

"W-what are we?"

Zayn stopped working on a palm tree he had placed just above his Bob Marley. He flicked the nozzle of the can a few times with his finger nails. A few seconds pass till Zayn moves the mask under his chin. Harry thinks this won't turn out how he wants, he lays on his back next to the pile of empty spray cans and holds onto the color he was using on the motorbike. He knew things changed, but God he really hoped it didn't only change for him.

"You don't have to answer," Harry said in defeat. "Don't want things to get any more awkward."

Awkward. They've never been awkward. It was always easy with them.

"What'd ya mean?" Zayn squatted down next to Harry.

"I just," he crossed his arms over his face still holding onto the can. "I don't want us to change. Except I've changed, my-. Well. My feelings changed. But you-." Letting out a groan. "You haven't changed, your feelings haven't changed. You're constant and I'm an evolving-.

"Who said my feelings haven't changed?" Zayn said cutting Harry off. He took one of Harry's elbows and moved it so he could see Harry's face. His face is soft and a bit red at the cheeks. His eyes are wide open. "You didn't think I changed?" Sitting down next to Harry his feet near Harry's head. "Course I did. You know I always liked you best, you're the only one I brought in here to paint." Harry sits up, his attention is caught.

"So...is this-"

"A date? Yeah." Zayn laughs. "What? Is it too cliché?"

"No, no I just. I didn't know you-," he started turning the can around in his hand. He gave Zayn a small smile. Zayn took in every bit of him, he never really showed his interest in Harry before. He did his usual thing, his eyes became dark as he lowered his eyelids. Licking his lips already tasting him. He moved closer to him cupping the back of Harry's neck and kissed the corner of Harry's mouth. It was very soft and sweet, Harry wanted nothing more but to kiss him but he was unable to move. Zayn looked into his eyes and grazed his nose against Harry's and gave him a proper kiss. Harry was so excited he accidentally pressed the nozzle of his spray can and got paint all over his fingers.

"Messy lad," Zayn laughed. "If you wanted to play like that you should have just told me." Spraying his own fingers.

"That wasn't on purpose Z!" Wiping his pink-purple fingers on his shirt.

"Sure it wasn't." Climbing on top of him, Harry's knees at his sides. He looked down at the colored markings on Harry's shirt and attempted to make a contrasting design on it. "There."

"Will it come out?" Harry laughed.

"No, it won't," Zayn laughed placing kisses on Harry's neck. "Why would you want it to?"

-

Harry's stomach is churning, his head is on the top arch of his stirring wheel. He finally gets his phone out. His hands are shaking his heart is racing.

"Look I'm sorry. I couldn't do it. I-I don't know."

"Babe? What's wrong?" Zayn's voice came through Harry's phone soft but worried. "What couldn't you do? Babe, tell me."

Harry was at a loss for words, Zayn hasn't called him in a little over two months. He couldn't speak he could barely breathe. The sound of Zayn's voice weakened him more than he already was.

"I'm sorry Z, I thought you were Glenne." Harry finally lets out. "I was supposed to- well it doesn't matter now. I'm ok. How are you.?"

"I'm good, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"Why didn't you answer me?"

Harry let out a long sigh. "I guess you're the one evolving and I'm the constant."

"But I've always been constant with you H," the scratching of Zayn's facial hair against his phone made Harry smile he loved that sound.

"Yeah, that's true I'm the one that pushed you away."

"I saw on twitter- you're wearing our shirt. Two times in a week?" Zayn laughed.

"Yeah, I wear it when-"

"When you miss me. Yeah. I still remember our deal."

"Do you still?"

"Yeah, I've got your ring, i put it on a chain. Always near to my heart."


End file.
